Enochian
by alaskanbirdfriend
Summary: Sam and Dean are trying to find help for the demon tablet. They come across a book written in Enochian. Somehow, it turns out even more complicated than anyone expected.
1. Chapter 1

**Enochian is in bold.**

Dean slammed the backpack onto the table, shoving aside paper and pencils. Sam raised his eyebrows at this gesture, but said nothing about it. Dean leaned forward on the table, his face etched with concentration.

"So far we've got nothing, except a stupid book with a language only angels can read. Oh, wait. Angels can't read it, because they're not supposed to. Because some guy said so. Great. What the hell are we supposed to do with it?"

Sam rolled his eyes, and gestured around the area. Shelves crammed full of books all shapes and sizes lined the walls. Some were fairly new, others had loose pages and had been there for a long time. Plenty of information, probably dating back a couple centuries.

"Dean, we could translate it, even if it is in Enochian. It's not completely hopeless. We have a lot of resources."

A sigh. "Whatever. Let's try and figure this out, then."

Dean pulled the backpack over to him, and unzipped it. He gently slid the book out of the front pocket, and flipped through the pages, eyes flickering over the unknown Enochian symbols. He squinted, bringing it closer to his face.

"Dude, I have no clue what this means. I mean, we could probably get a few symbols, but this whole thing? No way, man."

Sam frowned, leaning to look at the pages. "Let me see."

Dean scoffed. "See all you want, but I don't think that'll help."

Sam's eyebrows knit together as he scanned the Enochian symbols. "What do you mean? This is easy. Look here." He pointed to a lower section, containing a bunched up letters. "It means something. Something important, I think."

He handed the book to Dean, and placed it in front of him. Tapping that area, he said, "Can't you tell?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, and scanned that section of the paper. "Dude, no. All I see is a ton of messy letters that I can't even understand."

Sam frowned, taking the book into his hands. "Really? I could swear...yeah, see? I'll read it." He cleared his throat. " **And the Seraph of Thursday will fall, but in his eyes it will be so far from that. In his eyes it will be freedom. Allied with those who have saved countless others from perishing. they will stop our doom.** "

He squinted. "Wait, but then there's another. It sort of relates to the prophecy, though. It's like this guy had no idea what he was doing. He just sketched out bits of Enochian without an understanding of what he was writing."

Meanwhile, Dean had been standing there, eyes wide open the whole time. He blinked. "Uh, Sammy? When did you learn to speak Enochian?"

He snorted, setting the book down on the table. "What do you mean, speak Enochian?"

"Really? You just did. Like, right now."

"Dean, I don't know what you're talking about, but-" His eyes glazed over.

"Sam? You okay?"

He was leaning against the table, his arms shaking. Memories from his time in the cage were flooding back, years and years of Enochian, and not a spoken word of English. Torture. Pain. Agony.

" **Help me. Please. Someone. Anyone.** " He rasped out, Enochian pouring from mouth.

"Hey, Sammy. Come on, get out of it. I don't know what you're saying, but it's okay."

Sam stopped shaking and his eyes turn to look at Dean. Well, not really. It's like he was seeing through him. Seeing someone else. Dean grabs his arm, and Sam flinches away.

"Hey, it's okay. Okay?"

Sam blinks and gasps, looking around. "What? Where-"

Dean looks at him with a worried expression. "I think you got stuck in a cage memory of some sort. Because I've never heard you speak-"

"Enochian. Yeah, I know." Sam put his face in his hands. "I didn't know I could understand it. Not until now. Then...all the memories came back."

Dean clenched his jaw in anger. "Yeah, well, glad those assholes are gone. You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He still looked unsettled, but his skin color had mostly gone back to normal.

"So, do you know what that page said?" Dean said, turning the book open again. Sam didn't need to look at it again to know what it meant.

"I think it's a prophecy. A prophecy about us."


	2. Chapter 2

"A prophecy. About...us." Dean looked back and forth from Sam and the book, disbelievingly.

Sam swallowed, now turning to look at the page, scanning the collection of Enochian symbols.

"Yeah." He squinted. "I don't know how much has happened yet, but it talks about 'The Angel of Thursday'. Pretty sure that's Cas."

Dean raised his eyebrows and leaned forward against the table. He let out a breath slowly, thinking. "So we've got a prophecy, about us, describing stuff that may or may not happen-"

"Dean."

Sam hadn't been paying any attention to what Dean had been saying. He had been reading all the information the book had to offer.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, moving next to Sam. He stared at the book in exasperation.

"What, Sam?"

Sam didn't notice Dean's tone of voice as his eyes widened, flipping between the page containing the so-called "prophecy" and another.

"Dean, I think there's more."

Sam had a look of confusion and concentration etched on his face. Dean waited for the first few minutes, but as he ran out of patience, he grew more agitated.

Finally, he just turned to Sam and asked, "Sam, what does it say?"

No answer.

"Sam? I think you're a bit _too_ concentrated here," Dean spoke, as he tapped Sam on the shoulder.

Sam took in a sharp breath and jerked back from where Dean was standing, accompanied by a small "ouch" as he backed into a chair.

He now turned to Dean, massaging his back with a wince.

"What?" Sam spoke. "Oh. About that." He rubbed his face tiredly and picked up the book. "You know that bit that was supposedly extra? I don't think it _was_ extra, I think it was more of the prophecy."

Dean raised his eyebrows and peered over at the unreadable symbols. "Well, what does that say? Actually, include all of it. I never fully got the first part."

Sam looked apologetic, as he had forgotten that Dean couldn't read nor understand Enochian.

"Sorry. It said, 'And the Angel of Thursday will fall, but in his eyes, it will be so far from that. In his eyes, he will be free. Allied with those who have saved countless others, they will stop our doom.'"

"Is that it?"

Sam sighed. "No. The supposed extra bit is, as I said, part of the prophecy. I was trying to figure it out, but it seems that it's just...burnt off. Or at least it looks like it. I don't understand how you could burn off writing." Sam seemed to be muttering to himself now.

Dean coughed. "Sam."

"Yeah? Oh, right. That bit says, 'And the Soul of Light-'. Then it gets cut off."

Dean pursed his lips, forcing words out of his gritted teeth. "A soul means someone human. Are we really going to drag another person into this life? Like Kevin?"

"I mean...this person could already be hunting…" But Sam looked uncertain even as he spoke. He didn't want to do this any more than Dean did. Bringing Kevin into the hunting life had caused a toll not on just him, but his family as well.

Dean sighed tiredly, rubbing his eyes and slowly sitting down on a chair. "Get some sleep. We'll deal with this in the morning."

Sam frowned, easily seeing Dean had no intention of doing that. "Dean, you need sleep as well."

Dean glared at him, sending him a look that said, 'I need to deal with the fact that you speak Enochian and a stupid prophecy about us.'

Sam sighed. "Dean, we both need sleep. We're exhausted from weeks of looking for information on the tablet. We found something."

Dean groaned. "Fine. But we're going to talk about this in the morning."

He got up from his chair and headed to his room. Dean didn't turn around, but you could clearly hear what he said next.

"Bitch."

Sam rolled his eyes and turned to go to his room. But a smirk escaped his lips as he responded.

"Jerk."


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was sitting in a chair, sipping a cup of coffee. Fingers lightly flipped between the two pages of the prophecy. His eyes flicked to a clock that was hanging on the wall, reading the time displayed. 4:55 am.

He snorted, thinking back to last night. _And I was the one that told Dean to go to sleep._

About four hours later, Dean walked into the room, rubbing his eyes. He frowned.

"Don't tell me you've been there all night."

Sam glanced at Dean, but then looked back to the book. He shook his head.

"No. But I didn't get much sleep, either. Too much to think about. Maybe we should call Kevin about this. This could help with the tablet."

"That's a good idea. Meanwhile, I'm going on a supply run. Call me if Kevin's in trouble."

Dean then sauntered out of the room, humming along the way.

"Somebody's in a good mood," Sam said, smirking. Flipping the cover of the book closed, Sam took his phone out of his pocket and found Kevin's contact number.

"Hey, Kevin. You there?" At first, there was no answer. Sam started to worry, already getting ready to call Dean. But soon enough, he could hear frantic scuffling and the sound of lots of paper crashing to the floor. Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Yeah, Sam, what's up?" Kevin's voice was scratchy from lack of sleep.

Sam sighed, putting his face in his hands.

"Do I have to tell everyone to sleep?" He grouched. Kevin's confusion was evident.

"What?"

"Never mind, it's nothing. Look, we came across something that may help in translating the tablet. It's a book, riddled with information about angels, demons, you name it. Haven't found anything on the Kraken, but it's probably there."

Sam was hesitant in telling Kevin that the whole thing was in Enochian. He could possibly think that he'd have to translate even more. He'd obviously say no.

"You assholes wait until _now_ to tell me that I could have had help with this thing? Thanks, guys, thanks a lot!"

Sam bit his lip worriedly. He probably should have expected this. Then Kevin sighed in apology.

"But yeah, sure. I do need help. When are you coming?"

Sam rubbed his chin, thinking. The bunker was probably much more guarded than the boat Kevin was staying in.

"Actually, you can come here. This place is huge. Here is most likely safer than Garth's boat."

He winced as he heard something crash to the floor. Probably a plate.

"Wait, you're serious? Please tell me you've got more than hot dogs for every meal."

Sam wore a sickened expression at that statement. "You need a salad."

"Probably. I'll tell Garth that he can have his boat back."

Sam nodded. "I'll tell Dean you're moving in. After that, we've got work to do."


End file.
